


Not His Father

by aqua_moon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, First Meetings, Fluff, Lots of Cursing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), i don't understand how this fandom uses tags yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqua_moon/pseuds/aqua_moon
Summary: Crowley (who is definitely not Warlock's father) attends a father/son event at Warlock's school and gets very distracted by a certain teacher in a bow tie.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 229





	Not His Father

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first official Good Omens fic but I am definitely not new to fanfiction and there is a lot more where this came from because i am utterly obsessed
> 
> anyway... i attended a mother/son nerf gun battle with my nephew this weekend and one of the teachers was hot and this entire fic is just me projecting, thanks. 
> 
> betaed by elizabethelizabeth

“So remind me again, what is this thing we are doing today?” Crowley asked, lolling his head over to glance at Warlock sitting in the passenger's seat as they stopped at a red light. 

“It’s a nerf gun battle,” Warlock answered, his eyes sparkling with excitement. There were four different guns in varying shades of fluorescent orange and a literal ton of ammo sitting at his feet. They weren’t the normal nerf guns that Crowley was familiar with - small and manageable that fit in the palm of your hand, no these looked like military rifles and missile launchers more than children’s toys. “It’s kids versus parents!” Warlock continued and the sparkle seemed to dim just a bit. 

“I’m sorry your dad couldn’t make it today,” Crowley said softly. For the most part, Crowley was indifferent towards his employer. The Dowlings paid well and his job mostly comprised of making sure Warlock didn’t die which was an easy enough task now that Warlock was past the choking hazard age. He was twelve and dangerously close to the ‘sullen teenager’ phase now. There was a finite amount of time left where Warlock would want the attention of the adults in his life and Thaddeus was absolutely squandering it. Crowley wanted to shake the man… was his job really so much more important and valuable than his child? Why even have kids if you’re just going to ignore them?

“It’s fine,” Warlock shrugged. “I’m used to it. You’re more fun anyway.”   
Crowley smiled, “Hell yeah I am!” Crowley didn’t mind going with the poor kid, but he knew Warlock cared very much even though he tried not to show it. He was a ticking time bomb of repressed abandonment issues… his teenage rebellion phase would be an absolute nightmare once it kicked in. “Well since we’ll be on opposite teams, I guess we can’t really strategize, can we?”

“Nope. Wouldn’t matter anyway, the kid’s team is going to dominate you!” Warlock cackled. 

“Oh you think so?” Crowley goaded as he pulled into the parking lot. 

“I know so,” Warlock said, his smile smug and self-assured. 

“Wanna bet on it?” Crowley quirked an eyebrow in a blatant challenge. 

“You’re on!” 

“Okay,” Crowley smirked. “If you win… pizza party with your friends. If I win, you have to start passing your science class!” 

“No fair!” Warlock whined.

“Those are the terms. I thought you were sure your team would win?” Crowley said with a sly smile. Warlock was so _easy_ … he should really work on that. He’d be terrible at poker. 

“Oh, we will,” Warlock said, not realizing he was being played. He stuck out his hand, shaking on it. 

“Great. Now, which gun is mine?” 

“This one,” Warlock held out one of the smaller (but still machine gun-sized) orange and grey rifles. 

“It’s not broken, is it? I will not tolerate sabotage,” Crowley said, shooting him a playful glare as he cocked the gun and aimed it at Warlock’s chest, pulling the trigger even though the barrel was empty. The gun clicked, sending out a puff of air. 

“See, it works just fine,” Warlock rolled his eyes as they walked into the school. The school entrance broke off into the gymnasium on the left and utter chaos rained down on them. Warlock immediately ran off, disappearing into the sea of children and nerf darts. Crowley got in line with the parents, filling out liability waivers promising not to sue if either of them took a dart to the eyeball. He scanned the room, taking in the children running around and shooting each other with glee while the parents huddled in small groups in the bleachers as they waited for the event to officially start. Crowley didn’t really know any of the other student’s fathers; he mostly arranged playdates and meetups with moms after all. So he felt a little out of his element but he wandered over, sitting close but not too close and fiddling with his phone. He periodically glanced up, making sure Warlock hadn’t wandered off or something but he was running around with his pack of friends, all of them were clearly excited. 

“First time?” 

Crowley glanced up to see who spoke to him, finding a man in a grey tracksuit, muscular and handsome in a Ken doll kind of way. “Ummm yeah,” Crowley answered. 

“I’m Gabe. Stephen, that one,” He pointed at someone in the mass of children, “Is mine. 4th grade.” 

“Oh… ummm. I’m here with Warlock, he’s in 5th.” 

“Isn’t this great? Boys being boys and getting to shoot at each other! Everyone is so against guns these days, I'm glad this school has some sense. I promised my Stephen when he’s a little older I’ll teach him how to shoot a real gun, no more of these foam darts and cheap plastic. No better way to make him into a man in my opinion.” 

Crowley’s stomach turned at his words. What kind of sick fuck thought a fun little nerf battle was some kind of pro-gun, violent masculinity training? And who thought that was a good conversation opener? “I umm…. Bathroom,” Crowley mumbled, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was being in the same room as that psychopath. Holy hell that man needed therapy. Gabe gave him a happy little wave, completely oblivious to Crowley’s discomfort. Crowley made his way over to the snack table, grabbing a bottle of water and leaning against the wall out of Gabe’s line of sight to wait instead. 

Crowley let his eyes wander the room, taking in the various people. Most of the parents looked bored out of their minds, fidgeting with their cell phones or making awkward, forced conversations with each other. Crowley glanced around for Warlock once again and his eyes snagged on a man out on the gym floor with the children. He was dressed in tan slacks, loose and comfortable looking, with a simple white button-down with suspenders over top, holding up his trousers. 

Literal suspenders. 

Like he was 80. 

The man turned, revealing a bow tie under his chin and a bright smile as he talked with the children around him. He looked close to Crowley’s age and therefore utterly ridiculous but Crowley couldn’t look away. His soft blond curls were unruly and his whole face seemed to be overtaken by his smile. The pure and simple joy he seemed to feel from being around the children radiated off of him like sunshine. 

Shit.

Crowley really didn’t need to start crushing on someone at Warlock’s school. That was not what he needed, nope, nope, nope. It didn’t matter what he wanted however, his heart was a rebellious little thing, stuttering a beat quicker every time his equally traitorous eyes sought out the man. He watched in confusion as the man started waving off the children, making his way to the far end of the gymnasium and picked up a microphone. Christ on a fucking cracker, he was a _teacher_. That was sooooooo not helping Crowley’s current situation. He’d held out a half hope that the man was an overzealous parent but no, of course not, he just had to go and be a fucking teacher and destroy Crowley’s entire world in the process. 

Okay, maybe that was a touch dramatic. 

But he was ruining Crowley’s entire day at the very least. 

“Can I have your attention please!” He called out over the roar in the gym. The noise level came down marginally. “Hello and welcome! For those who don’t already know, I’m Mr. Fell. Now children I need you to line up with your class so we can go over the ground rules!” Crowley was the picture of attentive as Mr. Fell prattled on about the logistics and teams and rules but Crowley didn’t absorb a bit of the information, his brain was too busy mapping out the contours of Mr. Fells face.

Crowley tossed his empty water bottle and gathered up his ridiculous nerf gun, trailing along behind the group of children as they were herded up the stairs and into the hallway. Crowley tried to put Mr. Fell out of his mind and focus; surprisingly, an easy enough thing to do as the doors were opened and colorful foam bullets began raining down on him. The hallway was filled with cardboard boxes and inflatable blockades, turning the school into a maze for the battle. Crowley crouched down behind one of them and started shooting, feeling only a little ridiculous as he took a sniper shot from behind his box and nailing some kid in the back of the head. Okay actually, this was kind of fun… 

By the end of the round, Crowley and another parent named Jason had built a cardboard fortress, keeping the pesky children at bay while they took turns venturing out of their stronghold to collect bullets off the ground. He’d taken at least 3 shots to the face and countless to his person as a whole, but he’d given as good as he got. He’d hunted down Warlock and his friends, raining hellfire down on them until his gun was empty and then he ran like a bat out of hell back to his fortress as they pelted his retreating back. He’d timed it perfectly though, arriving back to his cardboard box of safety just as a teacher ran through the hallway with a whistle to signal the end of the fight. 

“No fair!” Warlock whined, dropping his gun to his side. 

Crowley cackled, “Better luck next time, kiddo.” 

“This isn’t over!” Warlock yelled before running down the stairs and back towards the gym. He was right too, apparently they would have another battle after the next group was finished. Crowley stayed behind and helped pick up bullets, loading them into a plastic bucket and rearranging the boxes for the next group to have the space. He turned rather abruptly, finding himself face to face with Mr. I Somehow Still Look Cute While Wearing a Bowtie. 

Fuck.

“Oh! Sorry to startle you,” Mr. Fell said with a chuckle. “I was trying to sneak some of these foam pellets into your bucket.” 

Crowley gapped like a fish for a moment, desperately trying to pull himself together but goddamn Mr. Fell was even hotter up close. The way his suspenders pulled against his shirt made his chest look so broad and his stupid bowtie was fucking tartan and Crowley could feel a blush rising up into his face. Nothing about this man or his outfit should be able to rile Crowley up like this but he was definitely riled and he was both confused and annoyed about it. “I-- uhhh… here,” He held out the bucket. Wow, he was an absolute idiot. 

Mr. Fell smiled again and Crowley fucking swooned like he was in an Austen novel. Fuck his life. “Thank you. I’m Aziraphale or Mr. Fell to the children. Who do you belong to?” 

“Oh umm… I’m Crowley. I’m here with Warlock.” This was fine. They were just chatting like adults do and it was totally not giving Crowley a full-blown panic attack. Nope, his heart always beat this fast, his hands always shook. Nothing at all out of the ordinary. 

“Oh! Warlock is in my afternoon class. He’s such a sweet boy and so bright! You must be very proud,” Aziraphale turned up the wattage on his smile somehow and Crowley felt blinded. How could one person radiate such… warmth? 

“Oh, I’m not--” Crowley immediately began his usual disclaimer. He was always mildly panicked about anyone assuming Warlock was his. In his mind, he was still far too young to have a child, let alone a twelve-year-old, but he also knew the Dowlings would be super weird about anyone associating their precious Warlock with someone like Crowley so he made it a point of correcting people. 

Aziraphale’s smile fell into a confused frown. “You’re not… proud?” 

“No!” Crowley backpedaled desperately. He was making a right mess of things, wasn’t he? “Of course I’m proud of him! I’m just not his father!” 

“Well… yes. I have seen Thaddeus on the news before…” Aziraphale was giving him that confused look again. “So what is your relation to Warlock?” Aziraphale asked, bending down to pick up another nerf dart off of the floor. 

“I’m his nanny,” Crowley said. “I’ve been with the kid for a few years now.” 

“Ahhh I see. Well, he’s lucky to have you. I know his parents are… busy. So it’s good to know he has an adult in his life who is stable,” Aziraphale said carefully, the words left unspoken conveying so much more. It cut at something deep in Crowley’s chest to know that even Warlock’s teachers knew how shitty his home life was. Sure the Dowlings were rich and Thaddeus was an important political figure, but Warlock was lonely. He rarely saw his parents, he was being raised by the hired help and his whole life was structured and controlled based on how it would make his father look. It was no way to raise a child and Crowley hated to watch it, hated to be a part of it but he also why he’d stuck with the job for so long, he couldn’t just abandon Warlock. 

“I’m glad he has teachers like you,” Crowley said softly. “He needs more people in his life that care.” 

“Well I’m not supposed to have favorites but between you and me, Warlock is at the top of the list,” Aziraphale said, lightening the mood as they finished their sweep of the hallway and headed back down the stairs to the gym. 

Crowley smiled, “I’m happy to hear it.” The roar from the gym was getting louder as they got closer, breaking whatever bubble surrounded them (or maybe that bubble had only ever existed in Crowley’s head). 

“It’s been an absolute pleasure talking with you,” Aziraphale said. “But I’m afraid duty calls.” 

“Yeah… same,” Crowley said lamely and feeling like an absolute idiot as he watched Aziraphale march off into the gym. Not only was Warlock’s teacher hot but he was nice? Wasn’t that like… illegal or something? 

Crowley eventually followed along as well, taking a seat in the bleachers, and not so subtly watching Aziraphale’s every move. Honestly… the man wore suspenders! It was so old fashioned so why did he find it so attractive? Talking to him definitely hadn’t helped matters either. However, when he caught Aziraphale looking back at him not once, but twice, Crowley started to suspect that his infatuation might not be totally one-sided. That was… unexpected. All those fluttery nerves in his belly were now tinged with excitement at the prospect. He pressed down all the anxious little voices in his mind, whispering that it was all in Crowley’s head, that he could never be Aziraphale’s type. He was less focused on the reality of the situation, he really just wanted to enjoy the fantasy of it. He just wanted to spend the rest of the day dreaming about Aziraphale’s cute little nose and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. 

The next round of the battle was starting and Crowley lost sight of Aziraphale. He joined the throng of people heading back upstairs, giving a solemn nod to Jason his barricade partner and they came into the battle zone with their guns raised. Unfortunately, the kids were better prepared this time and it was a bloodbath, metaphorically speaking. If Crowley hadn’t been on the receiving end of 8000 foam darts, he’d probably be quite proud of the ambush the kids had orchestrated. In reality, he was just really relieved to hear the whistle blow, groaning at the various points of pain singing across his skin. Those darts fucking hurt. 

The children all whooped with excitement, dashing off back to the gym. Crowley stayed behind, taking his time to pick up the leftover darts and keeping an eye out for a certain teacher. He wasn’t disappointed, Aziraphale rounding the corner with a fist full of bullets. He smiled when he caught sight of Crowley, coming over with no hesitation and dropping in the loot before falling in step beside him. 

“So… how did you fare in the battle?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Those kids are vicious,” Crowley grumbled. 

He could feel Aziraphale’s laughter warming the very marrow of his bones. “That bad, huh?” 

“Warlock and I had a bet going on, I’m afraid I just lost.” 

“Oh dear. What were the terms?” 

“Pizza party with his friends,” Crowley shrugged. He probably would have done it anyway so it was really just his pride that was damaged. But also now he had to find some other way to con Warlock into studying for his science class. 

“Well that sounds like a fine wager,” Aziraphale smiled. “It would be horrendous to back out on your promise.” 

Crowley laughed, “I wouldn’t dream of it. What do you think I am? Some kind of monster?” 

“Well good. I have no interest in knowing monsters,” Aziraphale said, his cheeks the softest shade of pink and Crowley wanted to scream because what did that mean? Was he flirting? Should Crowley go for it? No… definitely not. 

But the Aziraphale looked up at him with those stormy grey eyes Crowley found himself blurting out the words, “Do you like pizza”? 

“I’m sorry… what was that?” 

“I-- asked if you liked pizza,” Crowley said, his voice getting quieter. God, he was so fucking stupid. 

“Are you trying to ask me on a date?” Aziraphale clarified. 

“Yes, and I’m doing a terrible job of it, thanks for noticing,” Crowley said with a self-deprecating little smile. 

Aziraphale’s eyes warmed, his lips turning up into a smile, “I don’t date my student’s parents.”

Crowley’s heart seemed to lift inside his chest, “Well, funnily enough, I’m not one of your student’s parents.” 

Aziraphale chuckled, “Well then… I guess that’s all right.” 

“Yeah?” Crowley asked, trying and failing to keep the dopey smile off his face. 

“Shall we exchange numbers?” Aziraphale asked before fishing a blue Nokia phone out of his pocket. Crowley stared at it for a long moment before he started laughing. He’d had the same phone once… when he was 14. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” Crowley chortled to himself as he accepted the antiquated piece of technology, punching in his information. It seemed to suit Aziraphale’s whole aesthetic. Suspenders and bow ties and a phone older than he was… it all fit and for some inexplicable reason, Crowley was into it. 

“You aren’t making fun of me, are you?” Aziraphale frowned. 

“I would never,” Crowley smiled. “I just haven’t seen one of these in a few decades.” 

“It’s a perfectly fine phone, I’ll have you kno--” Aziraphale’s protest getting cut short as Warlock came running up to Crowley, his many guns and his pack of friends in tow. 

“Crowley! You promised!” 

Crowley smiled, “Did their parents say it’s okay?” 

“Of course!” 

“Of course nothing. I’m not kidnapping your friends without their parent’s knowledge. Or did you forget about the trampoline park fiasco that was your birthday party?” Crowley glared at him pointedly. 

Warlock groaned, “I swear, they already got permission.” 

“Okay, out to the car with you then,” Crowley told them, shooing them off. “I’ll text you?” He said to Aziraphale, trying not to look as infatuated and hopeful as he felt. 

“Please,” Aziraphale answered with a smile, waving as Crowley finally dragged himself away. He couldn’t really put into words why he felt so drawn to Aziraphale, what about him felt so… irresistible, but Crowley wanted to explore it more. Something told him it would take a lot more than one date to find the answer to that question and he was very okay with that. In fact, he felt rather excited at the prospect. Maybe it was just endorphins or perhaps some of Aziraphale’s bubbly warmth still clung to him, but Crowley felt happier and more optimistic about what was to come than he had in a very long time… possibly ever. 

He practically skipped out to the car, already mentally planning his message to Aziraphale and their upcoming date. 

**Author's Note:**

> ~~this is obviously set in America because where else would kids shooting each other be considered a fun school event and not a national emergency????~~


End file.
